


Only When You’re Left Behind

by Dauntless_Shadow



Series: Song-based fics [1]
Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Death, Help, M/M, Rarepairs are awesome, There is no happy ending folks, This is my first fanfic so yeah, based on a song from Bonnie & Clyde, i don’t know what to write or the right way to write it, just oneshots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:42:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24616234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dauntless_Shadow/pseuds/Dauntless_Shadow
Summary: “Dyin’ ain’t so bad. Not if you both go together. Only when you’re left behind does it get sad.”First chapter is Sprace, second is Redfinch. A series of oneshots based on half of the couple dying and leaving the other behind.
Relationships: Albert DaSilva/Finch (Newsies), Spot Conlon/Racetrack Higgins
Series: Song-based fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1781137
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	1. I’d Rather Breathe In Life Than Dusty Air

**Author's Note:**

> I can’t write, help.

Race seemed to only come alive in the clearing that they had claimed. He danced and laughed and lived only in the clearing’s privacy.  
They lay in the center of the clearing, Race’s head pillowed on Spot’s chest. Spot was lazily carding his hand through his blond curls, the sun shining through the trees.  
They knew that what they did, what they felt, was dangerous. Spot didn’t care. Race didn’t care. They were together, and they felt that a short, loving life was better than a long, miserable one. Soon this would be over. They would have to go back to the city where the dust choked them. But for now, they were together.  
Race would rather breathe in the life that filled the clearing than the dusty air of Manhattan. He’d rather stay in the woods forever. But they couldn’t disappear. They couldn’t. They both had families who depended on their salaries, pitiful as they were.  
Spot slid Race’s head onto the grass. He stood up, stretching. Then a gunshot sounded, and he fell.  
There was no life in his eyes, and no breath in his chest. There was no heartbeat, and no hope.  
—————————————————————  
Sean Conlon’s death was in the newspaper the next day. A suicide, they said. The newsies had a field day with it. Everyone moved on, though, and the Brooklyn boy was largely forgotten. How was Race supposed to forget? How was Race supposed to move on?  
—————————————————————  
Antonio Higgins died at the age of 63. His grave said:  
“Seems you get to live your life just once.  
If that's how it's gotta be, then I'd rather breathe in life, than dusty air.  
‘Cause dyin' ain't so bad.  
Not if you both go together.  
Only when you're left alone does it get sad.”


	2. I Couldn’t Live On Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albert is on his deathbed, and he recalls the two years that he and Finch loved each other. He lived on his memories of the slingshot-wielding brunette, until the Spanish flu finally brought them back together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m bad at summaries, but I hope the story itself doesn’t suck.

It was 1917. It had been 16 long, heartbroken years for Albert DaSilva, and another patient wanted to know the cause of the heartbreak. He couldn’t say no to Sasha. She was only 11, and only had about a day left to live. So he told her the story of Albert and Finch.  
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••  
It was the winter of 1899, and Albert was so cold. He was passed out in an alley, covered in bruises the Delanceys had inflicted. Their reasoning was simple. They saw how he looked at Finch. And that was enough to warrant the beating. Albert lay there until Finch came.  
He appeared in the alley, took one look at Albert, and went to get Race. Race and Finch brought him back to lodging and laid him on his bed. Albert passed out as soon as they set him down.  
—————————————————————  
Finch had kissed him. Finch Cortes kissed Albert DaSilva in that same alley. And Albert kissed him back.  
—————————————————————  
The other newsies suspected, but no one cared. No one cared when Albert and Finch vanished from time to time, or when Race spent nights in Brooklyn, when Kid Blink and Mush sometimes just stared at each other. No newsie cared.  
—————————————————————  
Other people did though. They had gotten caught, after two years of sneaking around. And they just so happened to get caught by none other than Finch’s dad. He said awful things, and the boys ran.  
—————————————————————  
Finch stayed at the lodge from then on. But he was almost always silent and the newsies worried.   
—————————————————————  
He hadn’t come to Jacobi’s with them, claiming he wasn’t hungry and for them to go on.  
—————————————————————  
Jojo was the one who found him. They had all been racing to tell Finch about Les getting a date, when Jojo froze in the doorway. The horde of newsies skittered to a halt, clamoring to know what was wrong. Jojo turned to them, looking ill. Then he stepped aside, and every newsie was stopped by the scene. Blood stained the floor, still oozing out of the gashes on Finch’s wrists. A note lay on Finch’s bed, addressed to Albert.  
—————————————————————  
Dear Albert,  
I’m sorry. I never wanted it to be like this. But I can’t keep lying to myself. I’m toxic. Everybody I’ve loved has been hurt because of me. You say that it’s not true. You say that it wasn’t my fault. But how could you know? The Delanceys beat you up and left you to die in the cold. I couldn’t protect Mámi and Annie from Papi. So I’m going to leave. I’ll always be by your side, though. We’ll be together someday, in that life that comes after death. I love you, Albert.  
Always,  
Patrick “Finch” Cortes  
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••  
Sasha was quiet for a moment. Then she asked, “Do you still have the letter?”  
Albert nodded. He pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket. “I’ll take it to my grave.”  
“I won’t have to wait, though,” she said. She looked at the cot next to hers, where her twin sister’s corpse was. “Natalia knows I’ll be there soon.”  
Albert nodded. “They both know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Tumblr: @waiting-makes-me-antsy

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully that didn’t suck too much?  
> Tumblr: @waiting-makes-me-antsy


End file.
